Pinocchio, between and after
by Shychick
Summary: There are many things in Walt's classic masterpiece that I feel could've been better touched on or explored. Here is my interpretation of what may have happened between certain scenes following the escape from Pleasure Island, as well as after the film.


The journey to shore had proven more lengthy and exhausting than either puppet or cricket had imagined. It certainly had also not been to their great convenience that the lake was piercingly chill, to say nothing of several fathoms below the surface; from the split second their bodies scored abrupt contact, the shock to both their systems had been potent. During the initial few minutes it took for them to adjust to the temperature- which had seemed exceptionally longer- they had very nearly drowned. To make matters worse, the poor boy hadn't a whit of experience in swimming. It was only through Jiminy's relentless instructions and encouragement that his head had finally managed to break through; even then, his conscience would not leave off until Pinocchio had gotten the hang of the basic motions required to stay afloat, not allowing him the slightest chance to recuperate.

Eventually, following this vigorous workout, the two made it back to land- bone-tired, freezing, soaked, but faint with relief. In the past ten minutes or so, they had not made one, but two narrow escapes.

"Jiminy," Pinocchio panted, crawling onto the beach. He reached behind him and retrieved his tail, the hairs of which a drenched Jiminy had clung to for dear life, and carefully set him down. "Jiminy... you all right?"

"Sure," replied the still somewhat-dazed insect, knocking a substantial deal of water from his 'ears'. "I thought we'd never make it! Certainly does feel good to be back on dry land." He lifted his hat, and a virtual cascade rained down upon him. "Come on," he said, starting to walk and motioning for Pinocchio to follow, "let's get home!"

Over the next couple of hours into their trek back to town, neither of them had said much at all. There was a cool tension between them, like a brick wall that served as a deterrent to the other's thoughts and emotions, and both of them could distinctly feel it emulating off the other.

But what could be said, neither of them really knew... certainly nothing that would change all that had happened. Was there even anything to say?

Somebody had to make the first gesture eventually; that, if nothing else, was certain. They owed that much to their friend, at the very least.

At that moment, as though they had read the other's mind, both of them began to speak at the exact same time. They paused, then tried again, each of their words overlapping once again.

They stopped in their tracks, looking at each-other awkwardly. "Let me," Jiminy said, holding up a hand.

"No, Jiminy, I-"

"I insist!" He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, then sighed loudly. "The thing is... oh, son, I owe you a very big apology."

A look of shock crossed Pinocchio's face. "What? But, Jiminy-" he started to protest fervently.

"Please," Jiminy interrupted. "Pinocchio, ever since I've been your conscience, all I've done is behave irresponsibly. It's bad enough I overslept the first morning, but this is twice now I've turned my back on you. It's no excuse that I was thinking of your best interests when I left you with Stromboli- shamefully, I had forgotten that you were only twenty-four hours old, so young and naive in a world full of deceit and danger. I should have seen what was going on right from the start, but I was just as blind as you were; and I have no excuse because I'm supposed to be the adult here, the guardian, with all the knowledge and experience that comes with it. And what's just as bad is that I would've let your poor father spend the rest of his days sick out of his mind with worry and distress, the good old man who had always wanted a child of his very own; if that's not the epitome of selfishness, I don't know what is! I had intended to go back and tell him that his son's a successful star, and I thought he would've grown to be proud, happy for you... I can't believe how badly I missed the point!"

He continued, shaking his head sadly, "And when I lost my temper at Pleasure Island, and was all set to storm out of your life and leave you to the consequences of your actions... oh, gosh, what was I thinking? Once again, I had forgotten that you're only a child new to life, that it's all the easier for somebody like you to succumb to temptation, fall in with bad company, and make poor decisions. I was ashamed and hurt, it's true, but it was really my own stupid pride that I let blind me! Oh, I knew there was something highly suspicious about that place, and I should've listened to my own conscience and gut-feeling! When I think of what nearly happened to you..." His voice heavily broke, trailing off into a sob. "Another minute, and I would've been too late! Pinocchio, for as long as I live, I never would've forgiven myself."

Jiminy got to his feet, and slowly walked a few feet away from Pinocchio, then stopped and stared out into the dawning distance. "You know," he spoke up again, after several seconds had gone by, "maybe it would be best if I wasn't your conscience. Ever since I came into the picture, there's been nothing but trouble. I'm clearly not qualified for the job. In fact, once I see you safely back home, I'm just going to go. You won't see me again. It'll be like you never knew me," he vowed quietly. "And, as heaven as my witness, I wish you and your father every happiness in the world; Lord knows you deserve it, after everything that's happened..."

Immediately, the cricket was in Pinocchio's hands, before his horrified face. "Jiminy, don't say that!" he cried.

"Pinoke, believe me, it's better that way! I refuse to cause you any more trouble, all right?" Jiminy responded, harsher than he intended.

"I'm the one who's been causing _you_ trouble! _I'm _the one who failed- both you and my father!"

"Because I haven't been there for you as much as I should've been!" Jiminy retorted.

Pinocchio shouted angrily, "Yes, you have Jiminy! Why, you've been a much better friend than I've been! You were there for me when Stromboli had me locked in that cage. You didn't have to, but you stayed with me the entire time; you even asked the Blue Fairy to give me another chance. And if it weren't for you, I never would've gotten away from Pleasure Island, and I'd be a donkey like Lampwick and everybody else! Jiminy Cricket, you are the best friend I could ever ask for, more than I deserve- and if I'm lying, then I hope my nose grows until it breaks right off!"

Jiminy gaped, completely taken aback by the sheer forthrightness and earnestness that came from the young child, so adamantly set in his features. A soft utterance of emotion escaped him, and he removed his hat. "Why, I- Pinoke... I can't tell you just what that means to me. Thank you, kiddo" he smiled with a sniffle, placing a tiny hand on Pinocchio's.

"I never really understood how much you mean to me until now, Jiminy," Pinocchio admitted. "Will you promise me something?"

"Anything, my boy."

"Don't ever leave me. No matter what happens from now on, no matter if I ever become a real boy or not, I want us to always be together."

Now, the tears that had threatened Jiminy's ducts spilled forth freely. "Oh, son... I swear, by the Star of our Lady Fairy, that I'll stay by your side for as long as you need me."

He chuckled, removing his handkerchief and dabbing at his damp cheek. "Shucks, you're getting me wet all over again. I'm gonna catch my death of cold at this rate," he lightly teased.

After relocating to Pinocchio's shoulder, the two continued on their way, following the brightest star in the sky. Once more, they had allowed for a period of silence between them, but this time it was based purely on the mutual sense of contentment they now shared, as well as overall exhaustion. Eventually, Jiminy had fallen asleep without realizing it.

Some time later, Pinocchio's voice suddenly interrupted the general stillness. "Jiminy?"

Jiminy stirred, easing himself from his repose. "Hmm? What's up, Pinoke?" he murmured.

"I really did bad this time. You were right- how am I ever going to become a real boy now?" He held up his tail, and looked miserably at it. "Look at me. I acted like a jackass, and that's just what I became. What am I going to tell Father? How can I face him now? All because of me, his wish is never going to come true. How could I have been so selfish?"

Jiminy looked at his friend, eyes deep-set in a combination of warmth and pity. "Aw, Pinocchio. Don't be so hard on yourself. Like I said, you're very young; you really didn't know any better. How can you, when there's still so, so much about the world to learn, about right and wrong? And you know something? It's not necessarily any bad thing to make mistakes, because that's often the best way to learn valuable life lessons; we look back at just where we went wrong, and that helps us understand how to do better in the future. Life is a constant learning experience. All we can do is our very best, and never give up even when things seem their bleakest." His countenance then turned somber. "At least you're alive. At least you and your father will be together again. That's the most important thing here. I'll tell you something else, Pinoke- your father loves you so much, he could care less what you're made of or what you look like; you're still his son in every sense, and always will be. And that, above all, is what makes you as real as can be." He smiled. "You understand what I'm saying?"

Pinocchio paused, in deep reflection on the worldly cricket's counsel. "Yes; I think so. Thanks, Jiminy," he said gratefully.

"Anytime, son. Anytime."

* * *

At first, Jiminy was positive that it was a horrific nightmare, seeing the young child lying face-down among the rocks of the water's edge. Or, at least, that's what he desperately tried to convince himself.

But it wasn't until Geppetto had found him that this flimsy shred of consolation grossly proved a lie. With a sensation in his chest so heavy and painful, as though he had been kicked by a human with all their might, Jiminy watched as he knelt over his son's lifeless form and lamented wildly over his irreplaceable loss before calling the usurping heavens on their cruel mockery. Jiminy had never imagined that the cheerful, good-natured senior could lose it so, but was still unsurprised in the least; if he had not have been so overcome with such numbing shock and disbelief, he knew he would be behaving the exact same way. He dearly wished this stage of grief would just let him go, so that he could freely give in to the emotions that bubbled potently just beneath the surface, desperately trying to erupt like a temporarily-stopped volcano. Never, since the time his parents had died when he was only a teenager, had his heart and mind felt so vacant and so full-to-bursting at the same time- a wretched paradox, if he ever knew one.

It was only once they had finally arrived home- Jiminy, having followed them all the way, of course- that the cricket's imprisoned tears at last broke through their defences. It wasn't fair. It was a cruel, sick joke. After so much pain and suffering, where was the happy ending those two deserved in abundance, where was their wish come true? Had father and son at last been reunited, only to be wrenched apart forever? Real boy or no, Pinocchio at least deserved that much fortune after proving himself above and beyond the virtues of most people; his was truly the ultimate sacrifice.

But he was at peace now, both loved ones knew. Where he was, there was no fear or strife, and he had evolved to something far greater than mere flesh-and-blood...

* * *

After lingering outside for a few minutes more, lost in his own private thoughts and joy, Jiminy's eyes at last broke their heaven-bound gaze and he returned to the festivities.

Out of the corner of his eye, Pinocchio spotted him slip under the crack of the front door. "Jiminy!" he cried happily, hurrying over to him. The boy had all but forgotten about him in all the events preceding his reunion with his father.

Jiminy leapt up onto his shoulder. "Heya, Pinoke! Looking good!" he exclaimed.

"I know, isn't it great? I'm finally a real boy!"

"Yes, sir, and you've definitely earned it! Congratulations, Pinocchio, congratulations!" He beamed. "Why, I couldn't be any prouder of you than if you were my own son."

"Thanks, Jiminy. I know I couldn't have done it without you, though," Pinocchio smiled.

Jiminy shook his head. "Hey, now, give credit where credit's due. You've really grown up, more so than a lot of folks much older than you, and that's a fact. You're going to be just fine now. Wherever life's road takes you, I have every confidence that you'll handle yourself with all the strength and maturity required."

"As long as I always have my family's love and support, there's nothing I can't do!" Pinocchio gently held out his hand, and Jiminy hopped into it.

Geppetto came over. "What have you got there, son?" he inquired curiously.

"Father," Pinocchio said, holding out his palm, "this is Jiminy Cricket- my best friend in the whole world, and my conscience. He watched out for me the entire time, always trying to keep me out of trouble, always there when I was lonely or frightened. He even helped me find you!"

Jiminy lifted his hat in greeting. "Good evening, sir. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said affably.

Geppetto looked momentarily surprised at the talking cricket, but then smiled warmly. "Hello there, Jiminy. I must say, it's very nice to know you too," he replied, peering down at him. "Any friend of Pinocchio's is a friend of mine. So, you're his conscience, eh? Well, I can't thank you enough for taking care of my boy!"

Jiminy chuckled modestly, relocating to Pinocchio's hat. "Aw, heck, I didn't do so much," he said, blushing faintly. "It's sure an honor to serve as Pinoke's mentor; he's given my own life more purpose and fulfillment than I could've ever dreamed of. You've truly got one amazing son, Mr. Geppetto."

"Thank you. I couldn't be prouder of him," Geppetto beamed, wrapping an arm around Pinocchio, who hugged him back. "And, Jiminy? Welcome to the family."

* * *

It was midnight by the time everybody had finally went to bed, very tired, but very joyful.

Jiminy had made his accommodations in the same matchbox he had slept in during his first night in the house, upon the windowsill beside Geppetto's bed. (The woodcarver had practically insisted on making him a real bed of his own, but Jiminy politely declined.)

The cricket had been sleeping soundly, the best sleep he was having in a long time, when an odd sound suddenly woke him. His eyes slowly cracked open, and he forced himself into a sitting position, yawning deeply and stretching. After rubbing his eyes, he then looked up and noticed Pinocchio sitting wide-awake in the center of the bed hugging his knees, his sights intently focused beyond the window. Much to Jiminy's further surprise, he caught a single tear fall down his flesh cheek.

"Why, Pinocchio." Jiminy didn't even bother grabbing his jacket, shoes, or hat, as he leaped right beside his young friend. He looked up at him, slightly alarmed. "What's up? Can't sleep? Did you have a nightmare?"

"Oh, Jiminy," Pinocchio sighed sadly, sniffling, as more tears formed in his eyes. "I can't stop thinking about Lampwick, and all the other kids back on Pleasure Island. Seeing him just turn into a donkey like that was the most frightening thing I've ever seen. I know I'll never forget it. Why, I can almost still hear him screaming. I- I know there wasn't much we could've done, but I still feel terrible. It's not fair; it's not fair that they didn't escape, too." He shivered, though there was no breeze to speak of. "Jiminy, what's going to happen to them all? Do you think they'll ever become boys again?"

Jiminy remembered, all too vividly, the shocking and horrifying secret behind the amusement park and the Coachman's evil agenda. He could still see all the poor children in donkeys' bodies, braying in fear and despair for the loved ones they would never see again, pleading for escape, getting shoved into wooden crates- some bound for salt mines, others for circuses- and loaded onto the very same ship that had brought the poor, naive fools into that place of hell.

At the time, Jiminy had spared little thought for the others, his first and foremost priority having been reaching Pinocchio in time and getting him out of there. But now, like Pinocchio, he could spare some grief for them. He recalled his sheer fury towards the brazen, unruly pre-teen, but if he had known his fate then, a fate worse than death...

He did not deserve it, Jiminy knew full well.

"Jiminy?" Pinocchio's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jiminy glanced up at Pinocchio; at once, Pinocchio could make out the truth etched so finely in his friend's features.

"I'm sorry, Pinocchio," Jiminy whispered, shaking his head.

"No!" Pinocchio exclaimed loudly, causing Jiminy to start. "No; I don't believe it! It's not right! If I got a second chance, then so should they!" Ignoring his conscience's weak reminder that Geppetto was asleep, he furiously wiped the tears from his eyes and faced outside again. He carefully scanned the ocean of diamonds across the infinite reaches of space, and quickly spotted the one he was looking for.

"Miss Fairy, ma'am... I'm awful grateful for everything you've done, honest I am," he prayed. "But now, I have another wish." He fell silent, then, as he continued to face that same star for what seemed like forever. "Please, please..." he whispered, clasping his hands together.

He glanced down by his side, and saw that Jiminy was on his knees, wishing right along with him.

Suddenly, both Pinocchio and Jiminy could hear a familiar angelic voice ringing in the air around them; at the same time, the Evening Star burned more vibrantly than ever. "Brave, truthful, and unselfish Pinocchio," the Blue Fairy spoke unto him softly, "I have heard your noble wish, as well as that of all the poor boys, and their anxious and waiting loved ones. Know that any single dream is even more powerful if it lies in the hearts of more, especially the more selfless it is. You have my word that I will help them."

"Oh, thank you, good Fairy!" both Pinocchio and Jiminy exclaimed simultaneously.

"However," she continued, "to earn back their humanity, once I free them from servitude, they will have to prove themselves out in the world by acting upon those same virtues that Pinocchio was originally charged with."

Pinocchio and Jiminy looked at each-other. "Well, I suppose that seems fair," Jiminy shrugged. "After all, Pinoke had to learn to make good too. At least, now, there's hope for them."

Pinocchio nodded. "You're right, Jiminy." He faced the star. "It's a deal!"

The boy quietly returned to bed. "Hey, Jiminy?" he spoke up, after a moment or so. "You really think they're going to be ok, after all?"

Jiminy smiled wisely. "Pinocchio," he said, by means of response, "let me sing you a very special song that my folks used to sing to me as a child..."


End file.
